


in the cold light

by oh_la_fraise



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-01-06 07:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12206562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_la_fraise/pseuds/oh_la_fraise
Summary: Needless to say, Alec was a little doubtful about his protection.  Officer Bane was way too attractive to be a convincing bodyguard, no matter how big his biceps were, and Officer Branwell just kept staring at his sister’s ass.AKA the Bodyguard AU no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY. This author's note may be longer than the story itself. 
> 
> So I had this self-indulgent post a few months ago about wanting a bodyguard au, and ya know, be the change you want to see in the world, yada yada yada. It was written for the Malec Big Bang, which has sadly fizzled out a bit, but I'm still super excited to be sharing this with y'all! It's mostly written, but my life is batshit right now, so updates may be a little slow in coming.
> 
> First, this story was first percolated in 2A, before it totally sunk in that Victor and Lydia likely aren't coming back anytime soon (and Hodge straight up died). Sebastian does make a few appearances, but I feel obligated to mention it's the real Sebastian, not the weird demon doppleganger. Just a slightly stuffy British dude. 
> 
> Second, a lot of details are being kept vague. I have negative idea of how Capitol Police security details actually work. Alec's bill is also super vague--I actually work in policy, but in a very niche area in no way related to environmental policy and I don't have much interaction with the Hill. All that to say I know just enough to know I have no idea what I'm talking about. As this is supposed to be a light hearted cheesy slow burn fic, it's not super relevant to the story anyway.
> 
> The title is from There Will Be Time by Mumford & Sons & Baaba Maal.
> 
> Finally, a huge shout out as always to Menckens Chrestomethy, who has held my hand and patiently listened to me whine about this fic for weeks on end. This 100% would not be here without her. Her Big Bang fic is going up soon (I have the patience of a toddler and went ahead and posted mine)--make sure y'all keep an eye out for it because it is going to be AMAZING.

“. . .Thank you, and good night!”

The speech, as always, ended with the crowd on their feet, roaring and cheering.

Izzy watched proudly from where she stood towards the back of the stage. It was an unspoken rule that Congressmen and women had to have someone with them at all major events to project an image of  a  _ healthy, loving family.  _ Since Alec was—as Jace liked to remind him frequently—terminally single, it fell to Izzy more often than not to fill that role, especially because Jace had a frustrating habit of sleeping with the attractive college interns who ran around the Capitol like ants during the summer. 

Alec took a moment to sign a few autographs, take a couple of pictures.  At one point, someone even thrust a baby at him, and Alec’s normally somewhat grouchy demeanor at being forced to interact with huge crowds fell away.  Alec genuinely cared about people, but despite his somewhat baffling popularity, he was better at being a policy wonk than a fundraising gladhander. But he  _ loved _ kids, and when Meliorn, the best at matching Alec for grumpiness, nudged Alec in the direction of the town car, Alec gave the baby an extra delicate squeeze before handing it gently back to its mother.

“Okay,” Simon prattled as they slipped through the back, away from the screaming crowds, and into the town car. “Next up is, um, press blitz back at the office—we’ve got, uh, NewsHour—Hari is hosting tonight—Meet the Press, and Face the Nation.”

“Good job, Maia,” Hodge whistled, even though Meliorn, Maia, and Victor were piled in the car behind them.  “That’ll get us a lot of great exposure for the pipe bill.  And after?”

Simon ducked his head down to scroll through his iPad before looking back up.  “Speech at an ACLU committee meeting, and then a fundraiser for Marco Debarrio—he’s running for the NY House.”

“Are you coming, Izzy?”  Alec asked.

She couldn’t resist teasing Simon a little.  “Depends, is there dinner scheduled anywhere in there?”

Simon blushed.  “Uh. . .” he sputtered.  “I have a granola bar in my bag?”

She laughed as Alec groaned.  “Thank you for that very tempting offer, but I need to catch up on some work at the lab.”

“Simon, I swear to God, there had better be a pizza waiting for me after the press blitz or I’ll—“ Alec cut himself off, face going hard as the car seemed to shake a little.  “What was that?” 

Hodge, frowning as well, leaned forward, rolling down the window partitioning the driver from the main cab.  “Johnny, everything okay?”

Johnny—who’d been driving Alec around nearly as long as he’d been in Congress—was frowning, sweat beading on his wide forehead.  “The steering wheel is fighting me all of a sudden—I’mma pull over.”

“Good idea,” Hodge said.  Simon was already talking rapidly into his cell phone, no doubt telling Maia and the others what was going on.

Johnny swore, causing Izzy to sit up, craning her neck to see as best she could into the front.  “The brakes aren’t responding!”  Johnny was nearly shouting at this point.

“Okay,” Alec said, his  _ I’m the boss  _ voice in full force.  “Everyone stay calm.  Johnny, can you—“

Alec was cut off by a horrible squeal.  Izzy had a moment to see the front of the car buckling in before the impact knocked her back, and everything went terribly, horribly black.

~

Even though it was barely five in the morning, the second Magnus stepped outside, he felt like he was swimming more than running.  God, he hated DC in the summer.

He turned his headphones all the way up and made a bee line for the Mall.  Even with the sun barely peaking through the clouds, it was already crowded, full of professionals like himself trying to get a run in before the work day.  Sometimes Magnus was a little lonely running by himself—he liked the silly chatter that came with an adrenaline high—but all of his loser friends refused to run in the morning.  Magnus hated running in the afternoon—he usually had better things (and people) to do, and besides, if running in the morning was bad, it was nothing compared to the sticky heat of a Washington afternoon.  

By the time he arrived back at his apartment, he was in a much better mood, and it only went up when he opened the door to smell freshly roasted coffee.  “God bless you,” he said to Raphael on his way to the shower.  Raphael, who was apparently too tired to make it back to bed and had collapsed on the couch instead, grunted at him as Magnus walked by.  

He took a quick shower—over the years, he’d perfected getting ready fast, especially with his minimalistic routine for work—and put a robe on long enough to dash out grab a mug of coffee before retreating to his room.  He moaned as he took a sip—whatever else Raphael was, he truly was an excellent cook.  He pulled on his clothes, taking a minute like every day to wish that his uniform allowed for a little more flair, and headed out the door after feeding an indignant Chairman Meow and grabbing the two thermoses of coffee waiting for him on the counter.  

The US Capitol Police headquarters was unassuming from the outside—just another one of the hundreds of vaguely-historic concrete buildings that dotted the DC landscape.  But inside was another matter.  The second he stepped inside, Magnus was hit with a sense of controlled chaos. People rushed around the lobby, on their way out and back from assignments.  

He stopped by the lockers to drop his bag off and fought through the crowd, eventually drawing up to his desk in the bullpen.  In the desk across from his, Lydia was staring dead eyed at her computer monitor.  The screensaver merrily flashed, even though Magnus knew it took a good while for the precinct computers to go to sleep.  He slid the second thermos of coffee in front of her.

Her eyes snapped out of her trance, bemusedly looking down at the coffee and then up to Magnus.  “I love you,” she said, taking a big swill of the coffee.

He laughed.  “Good morning to you too.  And I’ll pass along your devotion to Raphael.”  

He settled at his desk, going through his email and getting ready for the day as he waited for his partner to gradually come online.  Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, Lydia coughed.  “Luke wants to see us later.  New assignment.”

Magnus frowned.  Getting an assignment straight from the Captain himself rather than a Sergeant usually meant a bigger deal than a normal case.  “He say what it was?”

“No.”

“‘No’ he didn’t say what it was, or ‘no’ you were in too much of a fugue state to notice?”

Lydia glared.  “You know I don’t do mornings.  But no, he just said to come by around nine.  He seemed tense.”

Magnus sighed.  “That’s a great sign.”

They waited around as the clock ticked down slowly.  Magnus did his best to work, but he was to tense to really focus—he kept reading the same email over and over again.  Judging by the way Lydia kept reaching to check the time on her phone, she felt the same.  When it was finally almost nine, they marched to his office slowly, nerves bouncing between them.

Captain Garroway’s office was a corner one, offering a breathtaking view of the Capitol just a few blocks away.  His numerous degrees and awards stood at attention in ornate mahogany frames on the walls, and expensive crystalline figures decorated the cabinets and his desk.    Perhaps the most intimidating bit was the Medal of Valor, tucked unassumingly between pictures of Luke’s friends and family.  Just stepping into Luke’s office made Magnus straighten his spine, feeling every bit of the weight of the uniform he wore.

“Officer Bane.  Officer Branwell,” Luke nodded at them.  Outside of the office, Luke was a giant teddy bear, but on the clock, he was all Captain Garroway. “Have a seat.”

Luke pulled out a folder from a drawer, flipping it open and pushing it across the desk to Magnus and Lydia.  A tall, tan man in a sharp navy suit was on his cellphone, an entourage of staffers trailing behind him.  A small circular pin on his lapel marked him as a member of Congress.  “Alec Lightwood,” Luke said.  “Represents the New York 13th.” 

“Oh, he’s yummy,” Magnus muttered under his breath.

Lydia rolled her eyes.  “Professionalism, please,” she whispered. “I know him,” she said a little louder.  “He’s on the news a lot.  Something about an oil bill?” She wrinkled her nose.  “Oh! Was he the Congressmen whose town car got t-boned  yesterday?”

“Lightwood is a quickly rising star in the Democratic Party.   Currently the youngest person in the House.  He grew up in Spanish Harlem—his mother is the New York district attorney.”  Luke paused to roll his eyes. “He’s being prophesied as the next Obama.”

“He’s currently the mastermind behind a bill that would put significant regulations on fracking and oil drilling in the US.  Needless to say, the oil industry isn’t happy about it.  Normally a bill like this wouldn’t go anywhere, but it seems the stars have aligned—Democratic President and control in both houses, and Lightwood, as grumpy as he can seem on camera sometimes, is a force of nature—it seems like he might actually get this through. It’s about to pass the House, and he’s actively whipping votes in the Senate.”

“So where do we come in?”  Lydia asked.

“We’re keeping this on the down low, but that car crash he was in yesterday?  We don’t think it was an accident. Like I said, there are a lot of people unhappy at the prospect of this bill passing.  There were signs his brake line had been tampered with while he was at an event for LULAC yesterday.  His driver went inside for a few minutes to watch the speech—we think someone took advantage while the car was alone.  Not to mention he’s gotten quite a few death threats lately—that’s somewhat standard fare nowadays, unfortunately, but Lightwood’s had an uptick recently.

“Thankfully no one was seriously injured yesterday—the driver broke his leg, and Lightwood’s sister who was with him at the time got a mild concussion.  But we can’t be too careful, so he’s getting a twenty four detail.  Order came straight from Chief Herondale herself.  Aline and Sebastian were on last night; you two will have the day shift starting at noon.  Four twelves followed by three days off. ”

Magnus sighed in his head; it wasn’t his first rodeo with guard duty, and it  _ sucked, _ to say the least.  The days were long and boring, and Congressmen tended to be giant babies about having a detail.  At least this time Lydia was his partner; last time he’d pulled guard he’d been stuck with Duncan watching a balding Republican from Montana, and Magnus had nearly killed their charge himself to make their shift end early.  Plus, Lightwood was easy on the eyes at least.

“Look,” Luke said, looking more serious than Magnus had ever seen him.  “This is obviously a very serious case—I’d expect you to give your utmost.  But I’ll level with you two.  I picked you two specifically because you’re two of my best officers.  Lightwood’s  mother and I go back aways, and his scheduler is like a son to me.  He was in the car yesterday.”

“Luke, I’m so sorry,” Lydia said.

Luke waved a hand.  “He’s okay, just rattled and a little banged up.  But I’ll feel a lot better knowing you two are around to keep an eye on the office.”

“We’ll do our best,” Magnus assured.  They’d do their job to the best of their ability—Lydia and Magnus both took their job seriously—but a personal plea from Captain Garroway himself made it all the more compelling.

Luke nodded, and shifted back to business.  “Right.  Well, while Lightwood is your primary charge, you should be familiar with the people in his inner circle.”

“Jace Wayland,” Luke said, thumbing through the folder to another picture to land on a handsome blonde man.  “Lightwood’s adopted brother.  He runs a motorbike repair shop out in Arlington.”

Luke shuffled the pictures again, and a beautiful Latina woman appeared.  Magnus didn’t need Luke to tell him that she and Alec were related. Lydia let out a muted, involuntary gasp, and immediately blushed.  “Professionalism  _ please,”  _ Magnus muttered, unable to resist teasing her.

Ignoring them, Luke continued, “Isabelle Lightwood.  She has a PhD MD from Yale, specializing in biophysics.  She’s on a two year fellowship at NIH.”  Magnus whistled. “She’s the one with the concussion—she attends a lot of the Congressmen’s events with him.”

“No Mrs. Lightwood then?” Magnus asked.

“ _ Mister  _ Lightwood.  And no,” Luke responded.

“ _ Really,”  _ Magnus said, infinitely more interested now.  Lydia and Luke rolled their eyes nearly simultaneously.  

Luke thumbed through a few more photos, gesturing at them in turn.  “That’s his Chief of Staff Hodge Starkweather, and his deputy Victor Aldertree.  Meliorn Rohanna, Legislative Director.  Maia Roberts, Communications Director.  And this,” he said, pointing to the final picture, which contained a young man Magnus immediately recognized as the same boy from the photo behind Luke’s desk, “is Simon.”

Luke continued for a few minutes, detailing background about the case, before shutting the folder and pushing it across the desk at Lydia and Magnus.  “They’ll be expecting you at Lightwood’s office.”

His partner was quiet as they marched out of the building, but Magnus could see the wheels turning in her head.  He and Lydia had only been partners for about a year—not an incredibly long time as far as the force was concerned—but they’d become close from the nature of their job, and he could read her pretty well at this point.  He’d had a strong distaste for her when they’d first been partnered together—she’d been aloof, and a little snobby.  And she still was, for the most part, but underneath that she was painfully earnest and an incredible nerd, something Magnus could appreciate. Once they’d grown to like each other—a result of a long stakeout and a very heated discussion over  _ Greys Anatomy  _ vs  _ Scandal— _ he’d learned she was also fiercely protective and incredibly loyal.  Out of all the people in Magnus’s life, she was the only one who regularly asked about his photography besides Sophia, and as Sophia was practically his second mother, Magnus didn’t particularly count her.

Even though it was only about three blocks to Lightwood’s office in the Longworth building, Magnus waited patiently for Lydia to speak.  She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally saying, “is it weird if I’m excited to meet him?”

“Who, Lightwood?”  At Lydia’s eager nod, Magnus rolled his eyes.  “But  _ why?   _ You know as well as I do all politicians are slimy.”

Lydia pursed her lips.  “I don’t know, I think he might be the real deal.  This oil bill is serious business.  It’s the environmental version of single-payer—a liberal’s wet dream.  No one thought it would ever happen, even with a super majority.  The tax implications alone—”

“Okay,  _ okay,  _ Professor Bartlett—“

“— _ not  _ an insult—“

“—let’s cool it with the politics.  You’ll get plenty of time to watch the maneuvering while we’re guarding the stooge.”

“And let me guess; you’ll have plenty of time to watch his ass?”

Magnus shrugged innocently.  “ _ Someone’s  _ got to watch his back.  Might as well be the one of us that’s actually interested in men.”

They passed through the staff entrance, getting a broad grin from Antoine, the guard on duty.   “Lydia, Magnus.  Amigos!  What brings you here?”  

Magnus couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  “One of the suits got himself into the deep shit.  Lydia and I are on detail.”

Antoine winced.  “They don’t make it easy, do they?”

The halls were crowded with people giving interviews and running around clutching thick manilla folders, but the further they went, the more the crowds thinned.  To get to Lightwood’s office, it was a long walk up several flights of stairs and down more dark hallways than Magnus would like to acknowledge.  The newer the Congressman, the crappier the office, and since Magnus had been using his current bottle of shampoo longer than Lightwood had been elected, his office was nothing but a glorified broom closet.  They entered to find Lightwood’s staff camped out at tiny desks, packed like sardines.  Sebastian was standing guard at the door that led to the Congressmen’s office, and even though he was generally one of  the most stoic people Magnus knew, the other guard looked like he was about to cry with relief at Magnus’s and Lydia’s entrance.

A handsome man, seemingly unruffled by the chaos, approached them—Magnus immediately recognized him from Luke’s briefing.  “Hodge Starkweather,” he said, smiling.  His charm was immediately apparent.  “I’m the Congressman’s chief of staff.  And you are—?”

“Our relief,” Sebastian said.  “They’re here to relieve us.”  His tone on anyone else would have been bored at best, but coming from Sebastian, it sounded positively giddy.  Magnus groaned internally; this assignment must have been even worth the typical detail.

“Officer Branwell,” Lydia said, holding out her hand.  She could really schmooze when she put her mind to it; they both could.  “And this is Officer Bane.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking Starkweather’s hand.  

“Oh!  You work for Luke!” a voice piped up from the corner.  Magnus craned his head—a young man smiled at him from beneath a large pile of paperwork, his arm in a sling.  Luke’s pseudo-son, Magnus realized.

“ _ Yes, _ Simon,” a woman said exasperatedly from beside him.  Everyone in Lightwood’s office was unusually attractive, but Maia Roberts stood out even still.  “Just like the other two officers when you asked them earlier.”

Simon grinned, unashamed.  “Hey!  It’s cool getting to see Luke’s work in action.”  Maia rolled her eyes, but Magnus could see the hint of affection from where he was standing.

“Right,” Magnus said, getting back to business.  “Well, we’ll take over from Officers Penhallow and Verlac; please let us know if you need anything.”

Starkweather nodded, then pulled out his phone, speaking rapidly, already apparently onto a completely separate conversation.  Lydia and Magnus headed over to where Sebastian was stationed.  “ _ Thank God,”  _ Sebastian muttered under his breath.

“Bad?” Lydia said just as quietly.

“He’s banged up, cranky, and has had Aline standing in the corner of his shoebox office for the past twelve hours.  What do you think?”

“You take office duty,” Magnus whispered at Lydia.  

“No way!”

“Remember when that ONS from Legal wouldn’t stop calling you, and I had to break up with her  _ for you?   _ Yeah, I’m cashing in on that favor.”

“Bastard,” Lydia glared, cracking the door open and slipping through. 

A minute later, Aline emerged, looking as harried as Sebastian did.  “Good luck,” she muttered.  “You’re gonna need it.”

~

To say Alec was irritated, was quite mildly, a ridiculous understatement.

Even though he’d gotten the all-clear from the doctors a few hours before, his body was still sore, aching in places he wasn’t even aware he had.  And if Izzy had been a little more unlucky—

Alec made himself veer away from that train of thought.

Victor, his usual cutthroat nature replaced by his suave camera persona, had assured the insistent press  _ the Congressmen is fine, just shaken up, his sister has a mild concussion but will be fine.  The Congressman’s driver Mr. O’Hannigan sustained a compound leg fracture but doctors say he’ll make a full recovery.  Just  an unfortunate accident. _

And Alec was inclined to believe an accident was all it was.  He didn’t believe in spy novel plots of evil oil barons threatening him with bodily harm, no matter how insistent capitol police were. 

“This is  _ ridiculous _ .  I don’t need a babysitter!” Alec had insisted when the cops that had taken him away from staring at the wreckage of his town car had informed him they were his new detail.  Hodge remained unsympathetic as tweedle dee and tweedle dum, sticking out like a sore thumb in their capitol police uniforms, stared on.  

Hodge sighed, used to what Alec would never admit was a full-blown tantrum.  “Officers Penhallow and Verlac are the best Capitol Police has to offer—“

“Look, I’m sure your very good at your jobs,” Alec gestured at the supposed cousins.  He knew families didn’t always look alike—Jace stood out like the white boy he was in all of their family pictures—but an English white guy and an Asian American woman seemed like a weird mix, even to Alec.   “But I don’t need someone to  _ shadow  _ me.  No one is trying to kill me.  This isn’t a Katherine Heigel movie.”

Officer Penhallow raised an eyebrow.  “Are you Heigel or are we?”

Alec waved wildly at Hodge.  “ _ See?” _

Hodge finally gave in to his baser instincts, sighing and pinching his nose.  “Just give it a day; let things calm down while we evaluate.”

Officer Penhallow shrugged nonchalantly.  “Look, we can’t leave—bosses’ orders.  So we either stay, quietly and out of your way, or we keep arguing.  Your decision.”

Alec groaned.  “ _ Fine.” _

He stormed out of the precinct, Penhallow and Verlac scrambling to keep pace.  Alec’s ribs screamed with every step, but he ignored it, marching determinedly.  It was only when he got outside, taking in the warm, fresh air, that he realized he had no idea how he was going to get home.  His cellphone had been crushed, the nearest metro station was too far away for his hurt ribs, and his driver had a fucking  _ broken leg. _

“C’mon,” Hodge said from over his shoulder.  “CP said they’d drive you home.”

Alec felt jumpy in the back of Officer Verlac’s standard-issue sedan; the man drove infuriatingly slowly, and all Alec wanted was to be home.  Jace, bless him, had rushed over as soon as Alec had called him after the accident, and he’d taken Izzy back to Alec’s apartment while Alec dealt with the police.  She was thankfully okay, but the doctors had warned that, with even a mild concussion, she shouldn’t be left on her own for a day or two.  When they finally pulled up to Alec’s Capitol Hill brownstone, he felt his shoulders loosen.

That relief quickly died as Officer Verlac held up a hand.  “Wait, let me sweep the house first.”

Alec stared disbelievingly.  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He sighed, pulling open the door.  “We’re just doing our job.”

Alec shoved past him.  “My siblings are already here; I’m pretty sure they would have found the murderer by now.”

He headed to the living room, dropping onto the couch.  Fuck, he was exhausted.  Izzy was stretched out on the couch in a sweatshirt of Alec’s; Jace was on the edge of the couch, rubbing her feet.  

“Hey,” Jace said, looking up.  “You still good, man?”

“I have a fucking guard now.”

Jace burst into uncontrolled laughter, dropping Izzy’s feet into his lap.  “Oh my god,” he finally calmed enough to say.  “You have a Secret Service detail?”

“Capitol Police,” Izzy said, nudging her feet back into Jace’s hands.  “Secret Service is only Executive. And it’s not funny.  It’s serious.”

“C’mon, Iz,” Jace said, massaging her feet again.  “It’s a little funny.  It’s not like someone is actually trying to kill Alec.”

“We don’t know that,” Izzy said.  “And it doesn’t hurt to have them around until we’re sure.”

Alec rolled his eyes.  “I can’t deal with this.  Iz, if you don’t need anything, I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Jace said.  He paused.  “Hey, uh.  Are Simon and Maia okay?”

“Yeah,” Alec frowned.  “My whole staff is.  I mean, Simon hurt his arm a little, and Johnny has a broken leg, but Maia wasn’t even in the car.”

“Oh.  Uh.  That’s good.”

Alec nodded, too tired to decipher Jace’s weirdness at the moment.  He stumbled to his bedroom, ignoring at Officer Verlac stationed in the hallway.  He wanted to reflect on the day, but before he knew it, Alec was falling asleep.

Even with the day he’d had, Alec woke up automatically the next morning at 4:55, as he did every day.  He went to roll out of bed for his morning run, and the reality of his aching ribs set in.  He groaned, and instead headed for the shower.  The hot water helped his sore muscles a little, and the extra strength tylenol he knocked back helped even more.  He dressed slowly, feeling the ache in his shoulders as he knotted his tie.  

He peaked in on his siblings in the guest room—Izzy was snoring softly, and Jace was slumped over in a chair beside the bed.  He smiled softly to himself before slowly making his way down the stairs.

Officer Verlac was at the bottom of the stairs, standing at attention despite being up all night.  “There’s a car outside waiting for you, sir.” 

Alec nodded blearily, jabbing at his coffee maker until he had a thermos full.  He followed Verlac to the car, joined by Officer Penhallow at the door; Alec didn’t feel like arguing about the necessity of their presence pre-coffee.  Thankfully, both of them sat up front, Officer Penhallow sliding behind the wheel, leaving Alec to sprawl in the back and inhale his coffee.

They trailed behind him all the way to his office.  Alec refused to kowtow to the stairs; when he finally entered the office, he was panting slightly, although Alec would never admit it.  Everyone was in as usual,  as if nothing had happened,—even Simon with his sling.  Alec felt a rush of affection for his staff that he would never admit to; instead, he nodded at them as he did every morning and walked into his office, Penhallow following.   _ “ _ Are you fucking kidding me _?” _

“We have to guard the window.”

“My window overlooks an  _ air conditioner,”  _ Alec responded.  He never thought he’d be glad he lost he office lottery.

She shrugged.  “Sorry.  I have—“

“ _ Orders.”   _ Alec sighed, slumping into his desk chair.  “Just be quiet, please.”

He swore he saw Officer Penhallow momentarily smirk.  “Wouldn’t dream of anything else, sir.”

The morning went mostly as normal—constituent meetings, legislative drafts, people bustling in and out of his office—but everyone that passed gave Penhallow a curious glance, even though, true to her word, she was completely quiet.  Alec mostly forgot her presence; when his grumbling stomach told him he should think about looking for food, he looked up to find her gone, replaced with a blonde woman.

“You’re not Officer Penhallow,” he said dumbly.

The woman shook her head.  “I’m Officer Lydia Branwell.”

“How. . .how long have you been here?”

She smirked.  “At least half an hour.  You’re not helping your case that you don’t need a guard.”

God, he’d rather take his chance with his supposed stalker than deal with his guard any longer.  “Wow, I didn’t think it was possible to get someone more snarky than Officer Penhallow, but I guess I was wrong.  Are all Capitol Police this snippy?”

Officer Branwell rolled her eyes.  “Just us lesbians.  The straight ones are total babies.”  Her eyes widened, seemingly realizing she’d gone much too far, but Alec waved her off.  As annoyed as he was, he would rather have someone bitchy than weak and timid.  Instead, he stood up, heading for the door.  “I’m going for lunch, and I don’t need an escort.”

Officer Branwell scrambled after him. “Sir, you can’t—“

He burst through the door, immediately hitting a body on the other side.  There was a quiet  _ oof,  _ and Alec backed away, feeling guilty.  “I’m sorry—“

“Everything okay, Lydia?” the voice said at the same time.

“Yeah, the Congressman is just going for lunch,” Officer Branwell said.  The other guard emerged from behind the door, and oh.  _ Oh. _

Alec understood, all at once, why people developed uniform kinks.

“This is my partner, Officer Magnus Bane,” Lydia said. 

“Nice to uh—nice to meet you,” he said, all grace gone.  How were his muscles that big  _ and  _ his uniform so fitted?  Did he have it fucking tailored?

Officer Bane looked back and forth between them before smiling uneasily.  “Well, lunch sounds good.  Officer Branwell and I will escort you.  Were you thinking the cafeteria, or. . .?”

“Cafeteria. . .Cafeteria is good,” Alec said.  He was a fucking US Congressman, and he felt like he was a high school girl, blushing at the school quarterback from behind his locker.  There was an awkward pause before Alec realized they were waiting for him to move. He stepped out into the hall, the officers falling behind him.

He sighed internally.  Apparently, having a guard detail didn’t even come with the perk of watching Officer Bane’s ass.

~ 

Lydia would never admit it, but she was enjoying office duty.

Sure, Congressmen Lightwood was immensely grouchy—Lydia supposed bruised ribs would do that to even the cheeriest of people—but he hadn’t immediately gotten her fired when she’d let her tongue get the best of her earlier.  As she listened to him bicker lightly with his staff, Lydia realized they had similar senses of humor.  Plus, she was more of a wonk than she liked to admit; hearing the political gossip was _ fascinating.   _ With the Democratic majority in the House, Lightwood’s bill passing the lower chamber hadn’t been a surprise. But until Lightwood got involved, no one had expected it to make it through the Senate, where the Democratic majority was thin—for all of his surliness, Lightwood truly was a genius at whipping votes, and as she watched various staffers come in out, Lydia began to appreciate just how much work he was putting in to make sure the bill passed. 

Lightwood stayed longer than any of his staff, responding personally to constituent letters in a way that was strangely endearing, and by the time they made it back to his brownstone, it was nearly dark. Magnus led the way to the front door, just in case there was an unseen threat; Lydia couldn’t help but notice the way Lightwood’s eyes traveled over her partner’s shoulders.  She sighed to herself—Magnus’s ego would be insufferable if he knew the Congressman was checking him out.

When they finally entered the living room, Isabelle Lightwood was strewn on the couch, hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing nothing but a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of very short shorts.  Lydia did her best not to stare. Isabelle Lightwood had been beautiful in the disparate background information they’d gotten; anyone could see that.  But up close—up close, Lydia could see the beginnings of smile wrinkles around her lips, the mole on her collarbone, the streaks of auburn in her hair.  Her beauty was otherworldly.  _ I would die for her,  _ Lydia thought irrationally, surprising herself, and even more to her surprise, immediately repeated it:  _ I would die for her. _

Isabelle looked towards them, smirking.  “Hey, big brother!  Wow, you got the model guard,” she whistled.  Her eyes flickered over Magnus and Lydia.  Lydia wasn’t normally unconfident in the way she looked, but being called attractive by Isabelle Lightwood—Lydia felt simultaneously hideous and like the most gorgeous person in the world.

Lightwood rolled his eyes petulantly.  “Really, Izzy?”  If he was whining in the comfort of his own home, well.  Lydia was discreet.

Isabelle just laughed.  “Oh, by the way, Jace decided to do laundry while he was here.”  Lightwood blanched.  “I hope you’ll still like those white bed sheets in pink.”

“No,” Lightwood groaned.  “Why didn’t you do laundry?”

“Because I was too busy cooking.  I left you some in the fridge.”  If it was possible, Lightwood got even paler.  “And I know you wouldn’t hurt your poor, inured sister’s feelings. . .”

Lightwood glared.  “I hate you so much.”

As the Lightwoods continued to bicker, it was increasingly obvious that the siblings were incredibly fond of each other.  Lydia took one last look at Isabelle before forcing herself to focus on her actual job.  Magnus remained by the doorpost as she swept through the house, looking for anything suspicious.  The brownstone was big for DC standards, but it was still only two bedrooms—it didn’t take Lydia long.  She paused for a second to take in the decor; it was sparse and utilitarian, but there were hints of bold color and actual design here and there that Lydia had a sneaking suspicious had come from Isabelle.

By the time Lydia returned to the living room, Isabelle Lightwood was hugging her brother tightly, on her way to his guest room to sleep.  She whispered something in his ear, and Lightwood rolled his eyes before playfully shoving her away.  She moved up the stairs, and for a moment, her eyes locked with Lydia’s.  Lydia, off kilter in a way she had never been with any other woman, felt herself blush furiously.  A slow smile spread across Isabelle’s face.  “Goodnight, Officer.”

“Goodnight,” Lydia finally replied, long after Isabelle had descended the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. This has taken awhile because I'm working crazy hours and working on figuring out where I'm going to grad school (and how to pay for it) in the fall. 
> 
> Thanks as always to [Menckens Chrestomethy](http://menckenschrestomethy.tumblr.com/) for the endless handholding.

The next two days of guard duty passed slowly.  It was mind-numbingly boring, too, even with all of the chaos in the office as the oil bill came closer to passing through the House.  Despite his line of work, Magnus had no interest in politics. He cared about the issues it represented, sure, but the process seemed frustratingly useless and duplicitous the majority of the time.  Change—real change—came from people caring enough to act, and that didn’t happen from stuffy Senators running about the Hill and miles of legalese being passed into law at the dead of night. Passion, Magnus firmly believed, could only be stirred by genuine emotion.  It was why he loved photography so much. 

No more evidence had turned up to suggest Lightwood was actually being threatened, and Magnus assumed if nothing turned up in the next few days, Lightwood’s accident would be written off as a fluke and he and Lydia could move on with their lives.  Lightwood was still visibly annoyed by the guard’s presence, but he’d given up actively protesting them and had taken to passively aggressively ignoring his ever present shadows. As glad as Magnus would be to be off guard duty, he would miss following Lightwood and his tight ass around a little—there was something oddly charming about him, even through all of the grumpiness.   It must have been the same thing his staff saw in him—Magnus had never seen a staff that was so quietly devoted, ranging from Simon, who was genuinely excited to see every constituent that walked through the door, to Meliorn, who was quietly terrifying as he worked on the oil bill.

At least he’d gotten somewhat lucky—Lydia had kept her word and taken on the majority of office duty.  Maia’s desk was the closest to where Magnus was often positioned, and she’d taken to gossiping with Magnus during rare moments of quiet.  Their relationship had started with Maia venting to a colleague on the phone about an increasingly insistent reporter; Magnus had been unable to help but snort quietly at her recounting of sending the reporter on a wild goose chase.  When she finally had hung up, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be completely quiet no matter what we do?”

Magnus rolled his eyes.  “Those are the Queen’s Guards in England.  We’re supposed to be discreet, but we don’t take a vow of silence or anything.”

“So if I confessed a crime to you, you wouldn’t be sworn to a vow of secrecy?”

“Uh,  _ definitely  _ not.  Why, do you have anything you want to confess?”

She snorted.  “No. Unless you count being part of the world’s worst love triangle a crime.”

Magnus shifted closer.  “Not a crime, but I am also always open to confessions of gossip.”

This time, Maia rolled her eyes.  “Yeah yeah. I have a million things to do, and gossiping about my love life with my boss’s bodyguard isn’t on the agenda.”  She picked up her phone, and paused. “But if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you the story of the legislative aide down the hall who got caught stealing soap from the bathroom.”

Despite his steady stream of chatter with Maia—he did get the soap stealing story out of her eventually, trading it for the time he arrested a couple who had managed to glue themselves together in flagrante in the middle of the Mall—the day continued to crawl by.  The only time Lightwood left his office was to go to the occasional meeting—he and Lydia were often stuck in the Capitol watching Lightwood until their shift was nearly over. Lydia had taken the inside of the office again—she was enjoying the politics of it all, Magnus knew, despite her arguments with him.  Besides Maia, the rest of the staff avoided them; most of them were distantly polite, but Simon seemed mildly terrified of both Magnus and Lydia. 

By the time they made it to Lightwood’s brownstone, trailing tiredly behind the frustratingly exuberant Congressman, it was nearly midnight.  Lightwood’s sister had been cleared by her doctors and gone home; Magnus made a mental note to tease Lydia about her clear disappointment at the news later.  Though Magnus would never admit it, after the long day he’d had, he was glad to see Sebastian, stick up his ass and all. 

After handing off Lightwood to Sebastian and Aline, Magnus trudged to the nearest bus stop, and by the time it dropped him off near his apartment building, Magnus was nearly falling asleep on his feet.  He fiddled with the lock of his front door, surprised to find lights flooding the kitchen; Raphael must have had the late shift at the swanky restaurant he worked at as part of his culinary school practicum.  His roommate was bustling around, stirring something that smelled amazing. Magnus groaned in relief, collapsing face first on the couch, too tired to worry about the wrinkles he was undoubtedly putting in his uniform.  “Are you going to feed me? Bless you.”

Raphael laughed, banging around in their small kitchen.  “Okay, drama queen, what’s wrong with you? Did Lydia put you in a headlock again?”

“That was one time,” Magnus huffed.  He sat up slowly, Chairman Meow appearing from nowhere to hop in his lap.  “And no. She and I are on day three of security detail for a congressmen. It’s literally the world’s most boring job.”

“Hmm,” Raphael hums, stirring the bubbling pot.  “Who’s the lucky fellow?”

“Alec Lightwood.  From New York?” he asked.  He wasn’t expecting Raphael to recognize the name; his roommate was usually unaware of things going on outside of the culinary world, which made Bachelorette nights incredibly disappointing.  But Raphael shouted, dropping his spoon into his pot and turning around. Chairman Meow bolted, scampering off as quickly as he’d come. “Alec  _ Lightwood?”  _ he asked incredulously.  “Captain Planet Alec Lightwood?”

“You know him, then,” Magnus said dryly.

“Know him?”  Raphael dropped his spoon, rushing over.  He was more excited than Magnus had ever seen him, save for that time Magnus had bought him Iron Chef tickets for Christmas. ”Magnus, he’s  _ incredible.  _  He’s accomplished more for his age than practically any other Congressmen in history, and he’s an openly gay representative.  Do you think I could meet him? What’s he like?”

“He eats PB&Js for lunch.”

Raphael frowned.  “This is why you should never meet your heroes.”  

As Magnus continued to lay on the couch, Raphael stood back up, dishing whatever he was cooking and grabbing a glass of water.  He slid them in front of Magnus, who practically inhaled it—he hadn’t realized just how hungry he’d been. He and Lydia only got a brief thirty minute lunch, and that had been hours ago.  By the time he realized it was a shrimp pesto dish—one of his favorites—Magnus was nearly finished eating.

“Hungry?” Raphael teased.  He paused, biting his lip. “Oh, by the way, I talked to mom earlier.  She got her yearly check up results today.”

“And?”  Magnus asked, putting his fork down.  The pasta was suddenly making him nauseous.  He knew if it were bad news, Raphael wouldn’t have fed him first—he knew better from the drunken lasagna incident Magnus’s freshmen year of college—but Magnus still couldn’t help but tense.  Sophia Santiago had practically raised him, and that experience had taught Magnus that both Santiagos were great at acting like everything was fine right up until the point it wasn’t.

“All clear,” he said, and Magnus sighed, sinking back into the couch.  “Also, she told to tell you that she ‘met the most lovely young woman at Mass—‘“ Raphael’s voice took on a lilt similar to his mother’s—“a very nice, devout girl.  Mom showed her a picture of you on her phone, and this young lady would be flattered to be asked out by such an attractive gentleman.”

Magnus groaned, burying his head in his hands.   _ “Please  _ don’t tell me Sophia gave her my number.”

“She knows I’m not marrying any time soon, and Anna’s too young—you’re all she’s got.”

Magnus picked up a pillow, tossing it in Raphael’s general direction.  “I hate you.”

“But seriously,” Raphael continued, “it wouldn’t probably wouldn’t kill you to go on an actual date with someone.  I’m worried about our apartment becoming overrun with cats.”

“Hey now,” Magnus said, “Chairman Meow is a valued member of this family.  I’ll kick you out before him.”

Raphael rolled his eyes.  “Stop trying to change the subject, old man—“

“—Hey!”

“I know you.  You’re a hopeless romantic.  You need to find your soulmate, or whatever.”  His voice softened. “You’re always doing things for everyone else—you deserve someone to look after you, too.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, refusing to kowtow to the seriousness of the conversation.  “That’s why I keep you around. And Sophia’s just paid you off because she wants grandkids and she knows her best bet is from me.”

Raphael grinned.  “She may have slipped me a twenty if I could get you to say yes to the Mass girl.”

Magnus glared.  “You better pay into the apartment booze fund.”

~

Izzy was beginning to think she needed her own security detail, not to protect from her anything, but to protect others  _ from her. _

_ “ _ I’m sorry, Dr. Lightwood,” the shaking undergrad in front of her said.  No one dared call her by her first name in her lab; Izzy had made sure of that.  Izzy knew, with her tight sweaters and red lips, it was easy to forget she was in charge, but Izzy wasn’t going to do anything to encourage that line of thinking. She’d been reluctant to take on one of the summer interns; they were always cocky and thought they could do Izzy’s job with a half a biology degree under their belt. Her boss had insisted, however.  It had gotten Izzy about where she expected: weeks of carefully cultivated experiments, down the drain.

“Go home, Jackie.”

“But—“

“Go. Home.”

Jackie, appropriately cowed, nodded and scurried off.  Izzy pinched her nose again. She’d had a lingering headache since the car accident; it had nearly vanished before Jackie had taken initiative and set Izzy back weeks.  She looked at the now conspicuously empty lab bench in front of her; the mess had been cleaned up, and doing damage control beyond that was going to take days. Izzy sighed, and grabbed her purse, swapping her lab sneakers for a pair of red stilettos before heading out the door and to the nearest Metro.  

By the time she was walking through Capitol security, the tension in her shoulders had eased some.  She always enjoyed coming to see Alec at work; it was such a different environment than her lab. Plus, she enjoyed the Hill intrigue.  Hodge, always happy to take a break and commiserate about herding Alec, loved to gossip about who was sleeping with who outside of Alec’s office.  And within it,  _ well.  _  A front row seat made for great popcorn.  The new bodyguards had added a bit of fun as well; all of them were stupidly attractive, although Izzy was partial to the day shift.  The blonde seemed feisty _ ,  _ to put it  _ mildly _ ; Lydia had heard her dressing down no less than two junior officers and one overly inquisitive page. And Izzy had seen Alec’s eyes following around Officer Bane when he thought no one was looking.  Not that she could blame him; Bane’s biceps were easily the size of Izzy’s head.

She was glad for the distraction—that Alec had something in his life to be a little goofy about.  Her big brother had always been too serious, and the spotlight on the oil bill wasn’t helping. Not to mention the reason Officers Bane and Branwell were there in the first place—she knew no one else was really putting stock in Alec’s life being in danger, but Izzy was still cautious.  Alec represented a lot of important things to people—more than he realized sometimes, Izzy thought—but even without the added scrutiny of a major legislative push, his openness about himself was threatening to others.

She had the foresight to make sure Alec’s schedule was clear before she came, so when she entered the outer office, Simon, hunched over what could only generously be described as a sandwich, waved her into Alec’s office.

She winked at Officer Bane, who gamely winked back, before passing through the inner door.  Officer Branwell was standing quietly next to Alec’s window—Alec was loving the constant shadow, she was sure.  She winked at Officer Branwell—Izzy believed in equal opportunities—and, to her delight, Officer Branwell blushed slightly.  Izzy was glad she’d chosen the tight black top she was wearing today; it made her tits look fantastic. “Simon, I told you—“ Alec started before looking up.  “Oh. Izzy.”

“ _ Alec,”  _ she teased.  “Don’t seem so excited; it’s unbecoming.”

That got a small smile.  “Sorry. It’s busy, s’all.”

“I know; you’re stressed.  Which is why I came to take you to lunch!”

“Iz—“

“Nuh uh.  Simon already cleared your schedule, you need a break,  _ and  _ I need to vent about what my stupid intern did.”

He rolled his eyes but pushed back his chair; Izzy had no trouble pulling the protective big brother card when it was in Alec’s favor.  “Fine.” He stood up, walking towards her, and Officer Branwell immediately began following. Izzy could practically see steam coming out of Alec’s ears.

“We get to bring your hot new harem too?” she joked, trying to defuse the tension.  

Alec huffed, ignoring her as he stalked to the outer office.  Officer Bane nodded silently and fell in step with them; to her delight, Alec blushed slightly.   _ Oh, this was going to be fun.   _ Her day was looking up already.  

Izzy had a brief moment of panic as she slid into the back of the car following Alec—she usually took the Metro, so the rare times she took a car, it was usually with Alec.  The last time she’d been in a car with him . . .well. It hadn’t ended well. She took a deep breath, trying to not let Alec see her fear, and instead looked at Officer Branwell, sitting confidently in the driver’s seat, gun displayed at her hip.  She met Izzy’s eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded at Izzy slightly as if to say  _ I got you.   _ Izzy took another breath and slid in the car. 

Alec kept up mindless chatter as they went to their favorite pasta place—it wasn’t until she was on solid ground again that it occurred to her that he’d done it intentionally.  Izzy wasn’t as good at hiding as she liked to pretend. Still, she couldn’t help but smirk at Alec as Officer Bane held the door open for him; Alec just frowned and rolled his eyes.  When they were seated in a private corner, Alec’s bodyguards standing at the ready beyond the table, Izzy did her best to relax. “Have you talked to Mom lately?” she asked, trusting their table was hidden enough to prevent eavesdroppers.

“I talked to her two days ago?  We were talking about potential strategies to support the oil bill at the local level.”

Izzy pursed her lips.  “So you haven’t talked to Mom; you’ve talked to the New York District Attorney.”

“Iz—“ Alec bit his lip.  “She’s having a hard time with the divorce, especially now that Max is back at Cornell.  It wouldn’t hurt to cut her some slack.”

She sighed.  “The time honored Lightwood coping mechanism: bury yourself in your work at all expense.  Don’t suppose you’ve talked to dad yet, then.”

Alec immediately grew sour.  “He  _ cheated  _ on Mom and he’s not remotely sorry. What do you want me to—”

“Anyway,” she said, butting in and deliberately changing the subject.  She was sorry she’d brought the messy state of their parents marriage up; it was one of the few things guaranteed to start a fight between them.  “Let me tell you about what my stupid intern did.”

As she regaled Alec with the story of Jackie’s utter stupidity, for a second, she saw Officer Branwell’s twitch up in a smile.  It utterly transformed the woman, changing her from someone cold and stern to sparkling and joyful. She was attractive, anyone with eyes could see that, but smiling, she looked as radiant as the sun.

Izzy wouldn’t mind seeing that smile again, she decided.  And, well. With all that had happened to her recently—Alec wasn’t the only one who could use a distraction.

~

After dropping Izzy off at the Metro with a bag of cannolis clutched in a death grip, Officer Branwell quietly drove them back to the Capitol.  Alec hadn’t missed his sister blatantly checking his female guard out, and what seemed like a return of the flirtation in Officer Branwell’s awkward, constipated way.  He sighed; the sooner the guard was gone, the better.

The second he stepped into his office, the momentary peace he’d found with Izzy disappeared. Hodge pulled him into his office without saying a word, Officer Branwell and Meliorn silently following.  He shut the door behind him. Hodge scrubbed a hand over his face. “Calhoun flipped.”

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Alec swore.  They didn’t have enough wiggle room to be losing votes in the Senate.  “Why? He seemed a definite yes.”

“The Shelleys got to him.  Threatened to pull his funding for the primary.  He’s got a tough contender from the right.”

“The  _ Shelleys— _ why is he even taking money from an oil family?  He’s a Democrat from Maine, for fuck’s sake.”

Meliorn sighed.  “Tell that to his rural constituents.”  

Alec took a deep breath, pinching his nose.  “Okay, well. Get me a call with him. But tomorrow.  I want us to do some prep first. Tell Simon to clear my afternoon.”

Hodge nodded.  “Victor’s already on it.  Maia’s working on a PR response.”

Alec waved them away, confident they could handle it.  He took a second to gather his thoughts, but it was hard with the constant presence lurking in the corner.  He’d mostly gotten used to Officer Branwell’s presence—Officer Bane seemed to want to avoid him, for the most part, which was too bad, as he was much more attractive than his partner— but all he wanted was a minute of true godforsaken silence without anyone standing over his shoulder.  He glared at her. “Can’t you just. . .leave, for a minute?”

She shook her head.  “Someone has to be with you at all times.  If we’re not, we could get fired.”

“Even if I told you to?”

She rolled her eyes, and he could see a little bit of the spark she’d shown the first day she’d been on guard. “ _ Especially  _ if you told me to.”  She bit her lip. “I could send Magnus in?”

“Is he less noticeable than you?”

She looked like she was trying not to smirk.  “Not hardly.”

“Then I don’t really care.”

He went back to work, trying to think through a strategy to address this latest clusterfuck.  For a second, as he pulled at his suddenly too tight tie, Alec regretted not becoming a sheep herder or something less stressful than a member of Congress.  In his more rebellious phases, he’d blamed his parents for his career choice, but at his heart Alec had always been a diplomat, ever since he’d been elected class president in ninth grade.  The long hours, the lack of a casual social life, the loneliness, the constant pressure—none of it mattered. This was what Alec was meant to do. He cared about this bill, cared about the effect it would have across the country, and it was worth the stomach ulcers he was no doubt developing.   

By the time he looked up from his laptop, Officer Branwell had been replaced by her taller, more masculine partner.  Alec blinked—he really needed to start paying better attention to who was coming in and out of his office. “Uh, hello,” he said stupidly.

Officer Bane nodded at him. “Sir.”

He winced.  “Do you have to call me sir?”  Alec had mostly grown used to being referred to as  _ Sir  _ all the time, but it still made him feel old and stuffy.

Officer Bane shrugged, but his lips twitched upwards.  “Sorry, sir.”

“Where’d Officer Branwell go?”

“She’s on her break.”  The smile faded from Officer Bane’s face.  “I’ll make sure she resumes office duty when she returns.”

“No!”  Alec fairly shouted, hurrying to correct Officer Bane.  “I mean, uh. It’s fine with you here. I like it.” To his horror, Alec could feel his cheeks heating up, and the smirk on Officer Bane’s face returned.

Alec may have come a long way in his political career since his high school president days, but looking at Officer Bane, he felt nothing but a blushing, acne riddled teenager.

~

Much to her disappointment, Isabelle Lightwood did not return for the rest of Lydia’s shift.

She knew hooking up with her charge’s sister was a monumentally bad idea.  Batshit crazy, as Aline liked to say. And Lydia was probably imagining that  _ Isabelle MD PhD supermodel by night Lightwood  _ was flirting with her anyway.  But she still spent the rest of her shift consumed thinking about the younger Lightwood, so much so that she missed all of the strategizing going on in Lightwood’s office.  She rarely got to use her law degree anymore, and it was nice to eavesdrop on the policy wonks filtering in and out of Lightwood’s office. Magnus, as incredibly intelligent as he was, tended more towards literature and arts, and had a strict no shop talk policy, whereas Lydia wouldn’t know the difference between a Rembrandt and a street painting.  

The Metro was closed by the time their shift ended, so Lydia waved Magnus goodbye and hopped on a bus heading up 16th.  Immediately upon entering her apartment, she was hit with a sour smell, and she sighed at the pile of dishes teetering in the sink.  As usual, Codi, the rando she’d found on Craigslist, was nowhere to be seen. If she hadn’t left a towering pile of garbage in her wake, Lydia would start to wonder if she had a roommate at all. She and Aline had a signed a lease for a place in Shaw when Lydia’s current lease was up, and to say she couldn’t wait was an understatement.  She and Aline may have been sworn frenemies, but at least they were frenemies who could agree on a chore chart. 

She trudged to her room, deciding not to fuck with the dishes tonight.  Instead, she shrugged off her uniform, leaving it a messy pile on the floor, and shrugged on an old sweatshirt of Johnna’s.  It had been much too long since Johnna’s death for it to still smell like her—Johnna had always smelled like citrus—but it was still comforting wearing the faded UVA sweatshirt.  She took out her contacts and washed her foundation off, flipping off the lights and fumbling her way back to bed now that she was nearly blind. 

Lydia gave into her urge to check her phone one last time, and was surprised to find she had a text.  She assumed it was Magnus—Aline was on duty, and there really wasn’t anyone else who would be texting her.  However, to her surprise, there was a single message from an unknown number:  _ Hey, there.  Let me know if you ever want to get a drink.  _

Lydia sighed, assuming one of the rookie recruits hadn’t gotten the giant neon  _ lesbian  _ sign she kept flashing above her head at all times.   _ Who is this? _

_ Izzy.  ;)  _

Izzy?  She didn’t know a— Oh.   _ Oh.   _

She hesitated before replying,  _ how’d you get my number?  _

_ I have my connections.   _ A second later, another message popped up.   _ My mom and Luke are friends.  He thinks I’m being an overprotective sister keeping an eye on Alec’s guard. _

Lydia hesitated long enough for another message to pop up.   _ I’m sorry if I’ve misread things.   _

Lydia took a deep breath.  She hadn’t felt this giddy about anyone in a long,  _ long  _ time.   _ You didn’t. But it’s probably a bad idea to get in a relationship with my charge’s sister. _

_ Who says it has to be a relationship.  We can just have some fun. ;)  _

Lydia bit her lip, debating on how to reply.  Technically doing something with Izzy wasn’t against the rules, even if it was in a grey area.  But Luke himself had said she and Magnus wouldn’t likely be on the case for much longer. And really, Lydia would have to be touched in the head to turn down an offer from someone as gorgeous as Izzy.

_ I’d like that.   _ She hit send and bit her lip, throwing her phone on the nightstand like a nervous teenage girl.

For the first time in possibly ever, Lydia couldn’t wait to go to a guard duty shift.

Isabelle didn’t respond, but Lydia didn’t worry too much.  She drifted off to sleep quickly and woke up late as usual the next morning—no matter what time she got up, it was never early enough, it seemed.  She scrambled to get ready, picking up her crumpled uniform off the floor and wishing she’d taken a second to hang it up the night before. By the time Lydia had guzzled down a cup of coffee and thrown herself onto a train headed toward the Capitol, she remembered to check her phone, only to realize the battery was dead.  She swore and dug out the portable charger she kept in the dumpster that was her purse; it was still dead by the time she locked it in the CP locker room before sprinting to Lightwood’s office.

The day passed slowly, and, much to her disappointment, Izzy didn’t appear in the office to whisk Lydia off of her feet.  When it was finally time for her break, Lydia dashed down to the locker room to grab her bag and throw her gear belt off before making a beeline for the bodega down the street.  Thy had extra strong, extra large coffee to go cups, and the cashier knew Lydia by name. She took a minute to enjoy the warm summer weather, walking the block a little. By the time she remembered to switch her phone on, she was nearly back at the Capitol.  But it wasn’t a text from Izzy that caught her attention; instead, a blaring alert sounded at the exact same moment she saw lights flashing in the distance.  _ Attention all units: the Longworth building is currently on lockdown.  All units report immediately. _

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on [tumblr ](http://ohlafraise.tumblr.com/)!


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